The Arizona sentinel., 1887-07-23
MUD PIES VERSUS TURKEYS.

MUD PIES VERSUS TURKEYS.
 A Little Story or Boy Who Thought
 Girls "Don't Know Nothing"
 "Now, Peter, stay at home this after noon and keep an eye to the house, and
 the turkeys as well. There seem to me indications of shower, and you must
 be sure and not let the young turks get wet" said Farmer Garland. as he step ped into the buggy in which his wife was already seated. "Yes, sir, :" drawl- ed Peter slowly; but he looked glum enough as he watched his parents out of sight and then glanced up at the blue sky overhead. muttering: "stutf and nonsense! Nobody will run away with the house, and there is no more danger of rain than of snow l might just as we'll go fishing with the other fellows!" He did not dare. however, to disobey so positive a command ot his fathers. and pretty soon, with his hands in his pockets, sauntered around to the back of the farmhouse, to look at his own especial brood of turkeys, fine young fowls. that he was raising himself, and which, before his minds eye. he could already see sent to mar ket and transformed into the jingling coin of the republic, and that, in turn, invested in the desire of his heart a bicycle. "And Thanksgiving will see me spinning along on my metal steed' and crowing over all the boys, he thought, with pride and delight.
 The Garland homestead was a very old-fashioned mansion, and in the rear stood one of those brick Dutch ovens in which our forefathers-or, rather, foremothers-ware wont to bake their famous milk pies and pan dowdies; and close to this, Peter came upon his two little sisters, deep in their Satur- day baking, and merry as grigs, as they concocted their pies of rich brown mud and fresh spring water, and to which they gave as high-sounding names as any French chef
 "What a silly girTs play that isr' exclaimed Peter, a5 he gave one of the little tarts a kick, making wee Polly cry out that he "had spoiled her best Patty Foggarty," by which we suppose she meant pate-de-fois-grLs. and caused Tressy to turn on him & pair of big, reproachful eyes. But as he leaned idly against the fence. watching the young cooks. he gradually became interested in their employment H. at last ex- claimed: Here, girls, you don't know how to make good mud pies! Yours are all crooked; girls never do do things right! I'll show you how they ought to ber' And suatching the old han dleless knife from his sisters hands, down this pompous little "lord of creation" pumped on the ground and began stirring up the earth, while poor Tressy could only sit by and hold the cup of water for his lorlship, and Polly's sturdy little feet were kept busy trudging back and forth to the Dutch oven, where these decidedly indigestible specimens of cookery were placed to brown.
 Thus the afternoon wore away until Tressy. looking up. suddenly cried: 'Why, there is big bank of black clouds coming up in the west! We are going to have rain, and the turkeys must be driven under shelter! But Peter, who had now turned his atten- ton from dirt pies and was absorbed in erecting a mud fort, only said: Don't worry; the shower won't come here; twill go round, most likely?'
 Uneasily. Tressy waited five minutes longer, and then, as the battalions of clouds continued to advance, started up, saying: "It is best to be on the safe side! Let us get the fowls together, Peter!'
 "I tell you it is not going to rain, Peter, obstinately; 'there is enough blue sky to make trousers for a dozen sailors
 "We'n, if you won't come I shall drive pas turkeys in myself" said Tressy, who, although usually a gentle, yielding little creature, could be firm enough at times.
 And have your trouble for naught. I can tell by the way of the wind that the shower will go round, and you had much better stay and see me finish my Sumter"
 But Tressy thought otherwise, and summoning Polly, the two little girls were soon racing all over the grounds, | driving the turkeys into the hen-house, while Peter shouted after them: ''That's right! run and tear till you are out of breath; but don't dare to drive one of my brood in doorsr'
 Itwas hard work to cage the wild | rreaturaS and tha littla maids vera